Page 31 of Salvation
My legs eat up the distance between my house and Campbell’s, and all too soon, he comes into view. The perfect boy with the perfect smile, waiting to take me dancing. He’s leaning against his car, looking so handsome it hurts to breathe. A piece of his brown hair has fallen across his forehead, and my fingers itch to push it back and kiss him. But if I do, I’ll never leave.
Campbell watches me as I approach, and the closer I get, the more the smile falls from his face. Sometimes it’s a blessing and a curse to know each other as well as we do because there’s nothing I can hide from him, but I also don’t want to. He’s the only person I trust with my broken pieces.
Campbell’s eyes bounce between mine, then to my bag and back up again. Something dark passes through his eyes. “Are you going somewhere, sunshine?” I bite my lip, trying to force the words out. I never planned on leaving him, so I never thought about how to say goodbye. When I don’t say anything, Campbell steps forward, his hand cupping the line of my jaw. “Talk to me.”
The warmth of his skin against mine gives me the courage to finally say what I have to. Closing my eyes, I soak it in for one more second, then open them to find him. “I have to go.”
Campbell tenses, everything about him turning hard.
“No.” That’s all he says, but it’s enough to make me want to give in. I don’t, though. I can’t.
“Campbell,” I say his name, begging him to understand, but he doesn’t. I can see it in his eyes. He won’t let me leave here without a fight.
“No, Ivy,” he says, shaking his head and cutting off my plea. “I won’t let you go. I don’t know what happened tonight, but you can’t leave. You have to stay and fight because if you go, I won’t be able to breathe without you. Stay. Please. For me.”
I fall against his chest, already giving in before he is finished speaking. I never would have been able to live without him anyway.
“Okay.”
Chapter 16
Ivy
The pencil in my hand feels wrong. Foreign. As if I haven’t spent most of my life immersed in the world of art. I’m supposed to be working on a few concepts for the community building, but just like my canvas, my sketchpad has remained blank.
Frustration bubbles under my skin, and a growl rips from my lips as I throw the pencil across the yard. It flies through the air, coming to a rest in front of a pair of worn cowboy boots. Wincing, I drag my gaze up a pair of long legs, clad in denim, until I meet Campbell’s gaze. He quirks a brow, and I shrug sheepishly. It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen him. We’ve texted a couple of times; mostly, it’s been him giving me updates on things involving our daughter. Other than that, we don’t talk, and it’s stupid how sad that makes me. I’ve spent sixteen years without him. I don’t need him in my life again.
“What did that pencil ever do to you?” His voice washes over me, warming my skin as I stare at the glimmer of humor in his eyes. It’s a small glimpse of the boy he used to be—the carefree, fun, loving boy—and I can’t stop the smile that tugs at my lips. For a minute, it’s just us, lost in a moment where the past doesn’t exist and things aren’t so hard, but then Campbell blinks, his gaze shuttering and that glimmer fading away. The hollowness in his eyes returns, and even though I shouldn’t care, fear clawsat my chest. His eyes aren’t just hollow. They are dead. Lifeless. Like he’s given up on life, or maybe it’s that life has given up on him. He looks tired, and I can’t help but wonder if anyone else in his life has noticed.
I hope so. I hope he’s getting the help he needs, but it’s also not my business to pry, no matter how the fear weighs on my tongue, begging me to ask.
Instead, I turn away, looking anywhere but at him and ask, “What are you doing here, Campbell?”
Exhaustion leaks into my voice, but unlike Campbell, there’s no one in my life to notice. He has Hayes and his family, and I have no one. It’s better that way, but with the person who used to be that for me standing just a few feet away, the loneliness creeps in.
My fingers find the brick step beneath me, and I dig the tips into the rough texture as I stare out over the backyard, waiting for his answer. But like with most things with Campbell, it doesn’t come easily. He walks over to where I’m sitting on the bottom step of the porch and sits down. There is enough distance between us that we aren’t touching, but it’s small enough that I can’t ignore his presence. Not that I’ve ever been able to ignore Campbell.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him lean forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and hanging his head, and only then does he answer.
“I found her.”
My eyes snap to him, unable to prevent myself from looking at him any longer. “What did you say?”
His blue eyes meet mine, swimming with tears. The pain in his expression is tangible, slicing through the air and piercing my skin.
“I found her,” he repeats, his voice a rasp, barely above a whisper. “She lives thirty minutes from here. All this time, and she—”
His words crack, and he shakes his head, unable to get the rest out without breaking down, but he doesn’t need to. I understand. All this time, she had been living within reach.
Pain is often solitary; no one can feel it for us, but Campbell and I share this. We are living it together, and maybe that’s why I lift my hand and lay it softly against his jaw. And maybe that’s why he lets me. That’s what I tell myself because it is easier than admitting the truth. I miss him so much sometimes that I forget how to breathe properly. I’ve been missing him for years, and I’ll go right on missing him, even though he’s sitting beside me.
Campbell closes his eyes, his nose flaring in a sharp exhale before he opens them back up. Blue eyes meet mine—a collision of lingering pain and blame. None of this is either of our faults, but maybe it will always be easier to blame each other. Except, just for a minute, I don’t want to place blame, so I give myself one minute to revel in the moment before I have to let it melt away.
“Thank you,” I say, my thumb tracing a path along his jaw.
“For what, sunshine?” He asks, the deep rasp of his voice sending chills over my skin.
“For not making me face this alone.”
